When We Finally Hit The Ground
by Misato
Summary: Leap: verb 1. to spring through the air from one point or position to another; jump 2. to move or act quickly or suddenly 3. to pass, come, rise, etc., as if with a jump. Antonym: Fall. Dean leaps. Dean/Castiel, some blood and some angst.


"Sam, _drive faster_."

Dean heard his baby's engine roar as Sam pressed the gas pedal down to the floor and tried to shut up the part of his brain arguing that it didn't matter how fast Sam made the car go because Cas was going to bleed out long before it mattered. Dean pressed his hands hard against the stab wound just under the line of Cas' ribs, drawing out a weak, fluttering groan. "Cas, you open your eyes and you look at me."

Cas' eyes blinked open but he just stared up blankly at the roof of the car, as if just moving his eyes to glance at Dean was already beyond him. Dean swore, shaking his head; blood squeezed between Dean's fingers and he couldn't figure out how Cas could still have enough in him to be bleeding like this; blood was everywhere, all over his hands and up his arms, enough of it that his shirt was wet and heavy with it, enough to soak the backseat. And the blood wasn't even the worst of it; blood Dean could deal with, he wound up covered in it often enough that he had no choice but Cas' skin was already cold, like he'd been dead for hours already and was only just now beginning to notice.

And blood wasn't all Cas was losing. While the rest of Cas was cold the wound itself burned like Dean had his hands pressed to a bonfire, light pouring out of the gash in his side and coiling around Dean like silver smoke, separating into little wisps that sent pinpricks of pain dancing across his skin in the instant before it went out. Like the light itself was trying to grab on to Dean. Cas' eyes were glowing too, bright white circling his irises and more wisps escaping at the end of each shaking breath. "Who was it, Cas? Who got you?"

Cas shook his head, his lips moving soundlessly before he managed to gather enough breath for words. "Too fast. Couldn't...couldn't see..."

The car hit a rough patch of road and Cas' eyes went wide, another strangled groan ripping out of him. "Sam, _watch it_."

"Road's full of pot holes, we're going too fast to avoid them, I'm doing the best I can." Dean could see the white in Sam's knuckles from how hard he was squeezing the wheel. "There's a hospital fifteen miles up, keep him going until then."

Dean knew damn well they couldn't take Cas to any hospital. He knew it, and Sam knew it; Cas was lit up like a Christmas tree and no amount of fast talking could cover that up. Dean also knew that reality wasn't going to stop Sam from stepping on that gas pedal like they had hell itself on their tails, just like Dean was going to keep putting pressure on the stab wound as if anyone with eyes couldn't tell it was fatal. Anything less would mean admitting Cas was going to die right in front of them without them being able to do a damn thing to stop it, and they'd both been in that position too many times for them to let that go without a fight.

Although Dean knew they were going to have to admit defeat sooner rather than later. Cas' lips were already blue, his skin the dead gray white Dean had seen on too many corpses in too many morgues. He was still breathing but the way the breath rattled in his chest Dean knew he was dragging air into lungs that had long since stopped working, his battered vessel dying by inches around him. Even his eyes were already a dead man's eyes, dull and glassy and unfocused.

And in the end Cas made the decision for them. Dean felt Cas' hand brush against his arm, his stiff fingers icy against Dean's skin. "Dean, I...I don't think that's helping."

Dean still hesitated for an instant, unwilling to admit to what was right in front of him, but he finally took his hands from the wound. Light rushed out in a sudden gout and Cas whimpered, his body arching up but instead of trying to stop the light from bleeding away Dean straddled across his legs and cradled his head up, just enough so Cas could look into his eyes. "Okay. Okay, Cas. I'm right here. I'm gonna be here the whole time, I promise." When the hellhounds had come for him Sam may have been standing only feet away but in that last moment before the dark rushed in it might as well have been miles. When the nightmares of that night came it was never the pain that woke Dean up screaming; it was the memory of how _alone_ he'd felt in that second and he was _damned _if he'd let the last thing Cas felt on Earth be that. Bad enough it had happened to Cas once already, he wouldn't let it happen twice. "I'm right here."

Cas nodded and Dean was just glad he was together enough to manage that. "This is much worse than the last time."

"I know. That's 'cause it's slow."

Cas nodded again, like he'd just had the thought _Oh, that makes sense_. He coughed, blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth, the way his eyes widened betraying how much that had hurt. As Dean wiped that blood away Cas' hand spasmed, as if he'd tried to grab Dean's sleeve and couldn't quite manage it. "Dean," he whispered, the way he had to fight for air around the word making it all but inaudible. "Do you...do you think I'll go to the Pit?"

Dean felt that reach into his guts and twist. "Fuck, Cas. Why would you think that?"

"I'm...barred from Heaven. Where...where else?"

Dean couldn't deny the horrible logic of that. "Cas, I don't know."

"I don't want to go back there."

Hearing Cas panic was actually worse than seeing him in pain. Dean leaned over him, forcing eye contact. "You listen to me," he said, the words coming out in a growl. "If that does happen it's not gonna matter, 'cause no one's gonna lay a hand on you. You understand me? No one's gonna dare touch you, 'cause they know what I'd do to them."

Cas' lips twitched up, like he appreciated that Dean cared enough to lie. His hand reached up in the vague direction of Dean's face and Dean pressed it against his cheek, feeling the bloody streaks on his face and not caring. "Right here, Cas."

"Stop the car. Have to...to get away from me."

"Fuck, no. I'm gonna be right here, I told you that. Me and Sam, both of us."

"I'll _hurt you_."

And Dean knew there was a good of chance of that, he'd seen enough angels die to know it was in a final explosion and he didn't know what that rush of energy would do in such close quarters. It might tear the car apart, for all he knew, but he also knew that when angels died they screamed and it _hurt_and the thought of just dumping Cas out by the side of the road and driving off made Dean want to throw up. "I'll deal with it. You're stuck with us, Cas." He could see Cas try to argue and shushed him. "Don't. You won't change my mind." They hit another bump and Cas whimpered, going even paler. "Steady, steady, I got you."

"Don't let me scream."

"You scream if you need to, Cas. I told you, we'll deal with it."

"That's not a...a good idea."

"Stop worrying about us."

Cas started to argue, but Dean saw his brows draw together, his forehead furrowing in sudden confusion. "I can't see you."

Dean wasn't surprised; his pupils were blown wide and they weren't tracking. "I'm right here," he repeated, helplessness hollowing him out.

"I can't see you," Cas said again, stark terror behind the words now. "Why can't I?"

Dean had never heard Cas sound so _human _before. "Jesus, Cas."

Later Dean would never be able to say what came over him in that moment – he would swear to his dying day that the thought had never occurred to him before, although whether that was true or just a stubborn bit of self-delusion he would never be able to sort out. The closest thing to an explanation for why Dean cradled Cas' head up further and kissed him on the lips was that he could hear the echo of the hellhound's howl in Cas' voice, that howl and that endless moment of darkness before his heart had finally stopped beating. No way in hell was he going to leave Cas alone in the dark.

Cas whimpered, his lips moving against Dean's in a clumsy attempt to return the kiss and Dean felt a rush of relief that Cas could still feel that. Sam would come up with the theory in the weeks to come that was the reason it had all happened, because Dean had spent those crucial last few moments breathing in all that light.

At the time Dean didn't know anything had happened, just that he suddenly felt lightheaded, his skin tight around him like he was about to split open. The last thing he felt before passing out was despair that Cas was going to die alone in the dark after all.

888

The first thing Dean felt was scratchy fabric against his face, the sensation of lying on something lumpy and uncomfortable. Motel. Motel bed, _bad_motel bed. Dean tried to push himself up but just moving felt like an achievement and he decided that passing out again was probably his best plan. He could still smell the phantom tang of blood and didn't much care for the reality he'd have to deal with when he opened his eyes anyway.

"Dean? You up?"

Sam's voice sounded like a gong and Dean tried to bury his head under the pillow. "Shut it."

"Man, c'mon. It's been two days, you gotta wake up."

Dean groaned again, his head already pounding. "Leave me alone." Other than his Sam-induced headache, though, nothing else seemed to be wrong with him, everything was just too loud and the light in the room too bright, like he was coming off a really bad hangover. "How's my car?"

"Um. Okay? The backseat's a wreck."

Dean nodded, trying to shut out the mental images as to why. He tried to find the right words to ask what had happened after he'd passed out, if he even wanted to know. Maybe it would be better to trust Sam had dealt with it and not have to know at all.

Dean had never been great at taking the easy way out. "Sam, how did-"

"Hello, Dean."

The impossible voice hit Dean like a lightning strike. He lay there for a few seconds, disbelief holding him in place like a giant hand from the sky, then he pushed himself up on his elbows. Even with hearing the voice it took some time to open his eyes and look over to the other side of the room. "Cas?"

Dean didn't really believe in miracles but he was beginning to think he should change his mind. Stretched out across the opposite bed Dean saw Castiel, looking...okay, frankly looking like he'd gone ten rounds with a mack truck but awake and breathing and _alive_, no glowing, no blood. He even raised one hand in a weak wave. "You're alive."

Cas nodded. "I'm very surprised myself."

Dean looked at Sam, who was parked next to Cas' bedside in a desk chair nowhere near big enough for him. "Like I said, Dean, you've been out two days. We were starting to get worried about you."

Dean just shook his head; thinking about himself wasn't a task he was up to just yet. "How the fuck are you alive?" If this was a dream Dean was going to tear the universe apart in retaliation.

"That's...actually rather complicated."

Dean pushed himself up to his knees and immediately pitched forward, almost face planting on the floor. "Whoa! Dean, easy!" Sam called out, getting up from his chair, but it was Cas' reaction that caught Dean's attention: he winced. Almost like he felt guilty. "You'll need to get your balance back," he said.

"Why the hell's my balance off?" Dean said, but then he suddenly realized why he felt so _weird_. Like he had a twenty pound weight strapped to his back. Sam nodded to him again and Dean followed his eyelines, looking over and sitting back on the the bed when he saw the white, feathered wings curving up over his shoulders. Dean immediately got himself to his feet and after a shaky few steps made it over to the mirror on the wall, now able to see where the wings were growing from between his shoulder blades. "The _hell_?"

"Well, I'm gonna let you two talk this one out," Sam said, getting up himself. "I think we all need some food. That sound good? I'm gonna go do that." Dean got the distinct impression that it was taking all of Sam's self-control to not burst out laughing, like he'd been waiting the entire two days for this one moment. Cas' eyes followed Sam as he made for the door, visibly pleading but Sam just raised his hands in a _Hey, it'll be cool_. gesture. "Coffee sound good? I think it sounds good." Then he made his escape, leaving Dean and Cas alone with each other in the room.

Dean couldn't stop staring at the wings in the mirror. "The _hell_, Cas?" he said again, the wings flaring out as he raised his voice.

For all that Sam had looked like he'd been counting the seconds until Dean woke up it couldn't be more clear that Cas had been dreading it, or at least that he'd been dreading having to talk about it. "Your soul...absorbed pieces of my Grace. Enough to cause some physical effects."

"Yeah, I noticed," He flexed the wings again, trying to get the hang of making them move. "Is that why you're not dead?"

Cas nodded. "You're anchoring me."

"So I'm like a life support?"

"Something like that, yes." Cas' eyes narrowed as he examined Dean. "How do you feel otherwise?"

Now that the initial shock had passed Dean paused to take stock. The buzzing in his head was still there but it had faded from an ache to more of a persistent, low-level hum, but what caught Dean's attention was how _clear_everything was. Like someone had flipped on a high def switch behind his eyes; Dean's vision had always been good but this made him feel like he'd been walking around blind all this time. The phone book on the motel desk was open and Dean could read even the tiniest print from across the room; when he looked at the door he could make out every little imperfection in the wood grain. His other senses had been supercharged up the same way; if he concentrated he could hear people talking in what had to be the room down the hall and when he touched the bedspread each individual thread was distinct under his fingers. "Like I've been turned up to eleven," he finally said. Cas nodded, seeming to understand the intent there if not getting the reference, and Dean sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. "This is weird, Cas."

"I can show you how to mask them," Cas said, stopping himself just before touching the wings. "May I?"

Dean shrugged. "Um. Sure. Guess so." Cas didn't do more than brush his hand against the feathers but Dean still felt heat rush right through him, like dropping into a warm bath. He flicked the wing away from Cas' hand without thinking, the sensation too overwhelming to deal with at the moment. He regretted it when he saw a flash of disappointment replace the rapt expression in Cas' eyes. "Feels weird," he said, realizing he was blushing.

"They're striking," Cas said, going back to gazing at Dean. "But noticeable. Close your eyes." Dean followed the command and felt Cas' hand brush against the wing again. "Picture them existing as shadow," Cas said, his deep voice taking on the cadence of ritual. Dean remembered seeing the shadows of Cas' wings in that warehouse and focused on that, finally feeling a strange twinge in the back of his mind, like noticing a usually ignored muscle during a workout. "Good. Now picture the sun coming out and the shadows disappearing." Now that Dean had felt that twinge he tried to make it happen consciously and heard Cas say, "Very good."

Dean opened his eyes and saw that the curve of white wings had disappeared, although he could still feel the weight of them and the touch of the feathers against his skin. "Cool."

"Intangible will take some practice, but invisible is usually easy enough." He lay back against the pillows, his forehead beaded with sweat but he waved Dean off before he could even say a word. "I'm fine. I think you would say that my tank is running low."

"Something like that. My fault for siphoning it off."

"I'd be much worse than tired if you hadn't, Dean."

Dean remembered watching Cas bleeding out in the backseat of his car and knew that was true. Sam had taken Cas' trenchcoat and tossed it over the chair but hadn't undressed him otherwise, and Dean moved aside the suit jacket and traced along the tear in his shirt. "Can I take a look?" Cas nodded and Dean unbuttoned his shirt part of the way, taking in the white, jagged scar under his ribs. "Glad to see that healed up."

"As much as it's going to." Cas was looking at him with that strange, awed expression again, the one Dean couldn't quite return. "Why didn't you say anything, Dean?"

"About what?" Cas' expression clouded but he didn't question further, instead closing his eyes as Dean buttoned him back up. "Sorry I kind of stole your wings, Cas."

Cas audibly scoffed at that. "You didn't 'steal' my wings. Subconsciously that may be how you think my wings might look, but those are entirely yours."

"Okay, okay," Dean said, letting that go. "How did I manage to do this, anyway?"

"I don't know. I'd never thought a human was capable of it. Perhaps because your soul was touched by my Grace once already, in Hell."

"Well, yay for me. How do we get you fixed up?"

"I don't know," he said again. "This is unknown territory."

Dean didn't know about _completely _unknown, because it seemed to Dean there was something Cas wasn't saying. "You said you didn't think a human could do this. That mean an angel could?"

Cas ran his tongue over his lips. "I've heard of it happening. It's very rare. Especially for it to happen unintentionally, the way you managed it. It speaks to a moment of...of great despair. Of very deep emotion."

Dean was starting to wish he'd never started this conversation. "You were dying, Cas. No kidding I was upset."

"Something much deeper than that. Were you in that same danger I would do the same for you, Dean. You should know that," he said, that intense look back again.

"Well...I mean, I know you would..."

"There's another option besides replacing the Grace I've lost," he said, lowering his eyes like he was having a hard time looking at Dean.

"Yeah? What's that?"

He let out a deep breath. "There's a ritual. Sometimes when a deep connection is forged the choice is made to merge one's Grace with another. It's a very serious decision because it creates a permanent change. A bond."

"What are you asking me to do, Cas?"

"You've already begun it." He'd never heard Cas actually ramble but this was getting pretty close to it. "Continuing on would involve my remaining Grace joining with pieces of your soul, to balance out what was lost. It would make the change permanent."

"You don't want any part of my soul, Cas."

"Dean, you can't believe that's true." Now Dean was the one having to look away. "You would have to consent, of course."

"I didn't ask you before grabbing onto your Grace like this."

Cas' brow furrowed. "You didn't have to. I wouldn't have refused."

Dean felt this whole conversation already under his skin, making him jittery like he'd been shot full of caffeine. "So, what? Would this angel me up? More than, I mean?"

"No more than you have been already. What it would do is tie our fates together."

"What does that _mean_, Cas?"

"You're already keeping me alive," he said, giving Dean a significant look while completely avoiding the question.

"So right now if I die, you die?" Cas nodded and Dean followed that to its logical conclusion. "So if we did this, that means if you die I kick off too?"

"As I said, our fates would be joined."

"I don't want you dead, Cas."

"I know. That's why I'm alive now."

Dean shook his head. "I'm gonna get old, Cas. I'm human."

"Not entirely. Not right now." His voice dropped lower. "And you're never believed you would live to old age, anyway."

Dean stood up, so quickly Cas' eyes widened in surprise. "I think the best idea is we get you fixed back up. Get everything back where it belongs, forget this whole thing happened."

Cas looked so upset Dean couldn't look at him, like Dean had slapped him. "Did I say something wrong?"

Just then Sam walked back in, his arms full of coffee and burgers and snacks; he took one look at Cas and Dean and stopped in his tracks. "Okay. What'd I miss?"

"Nothing, Sam. I gotta clear my head," he said, pushing past Sam to get outside and slamming the door behind him.

888

Dean didn't know how much time passed before Sam sat down beside him on the motel porch. For a long time neither of them said anything, just watching the cars drive past on the highway. "What'd you do with the car?" Dean finally said, the silence hitting his supercharged senses like a hammer.

"Took it to a guy Bobby pointed me to. Kind of a Hunter go-to guy to get blood out of upholstery, and the windows got blown out anyway. Got a good deal."

A few more minutes passed by and Dean felt Sam poke at his invisible wing. "Knock it off."

"Y'know, it's weird, if you squint you can still _just _see them," he said, poking him again. Dean answered by invisibly smacking Sam in the face and Sam raised his hands, laughing at Dean. "Fine, fine."

"How's Cas?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Upset. I mean, for him. It's hard to tell sometimes." He let a few more minutes go by. "Where's your head at, Dean?"

Dean could feel another conversation he did not want to have rushing toward him. "What do you mean?"

Sam shrugged. "What I said. Just wanna know what you're thinking."

Dean didn't see the point in responding to that. "Cas still looks like crap."

"Pretty sure he still feels like crap," Sam said with another shrug. "By the way, taking care of someone who doesn't complain made me realize what a whiner you are when _you're _sick."

"I don't whine."

"You are the _biggest _whiner." Sam crossed his arms over his knees and gave Dean that look he had, the one that told Dean how scary a lawyer Sam really would have been if he'd gotten the chance. "Cas told me you kissed him."

Dean felt himself blush bright red. "Sounds like the two of you did some bonding."

"You were out for two days and the TV doesn't work, yeah, we talked. Had to do something to pass the time." Sam let him stew in that for a few seconds. "That mean you didn't?"

Dean looked away. "He was dying, Sam."

"We've seen a lot of people die, Dean. You didn't make out with all of them."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. Well, mostly," he said with a grin that quickly turned serious again. "I don't know what he said to you, but he made it seem like the way you were able to keep him from dying was a pretty big deal. _Means something_, kind of a big deal."

"I didn't mean to do anything."

Sam gave him a _stop bullshitting me _look. "What's got you so freaked out?"

"I'm not..." Dean bit the words off, fighting the urge to storm away. "Can't I be a little protective of my soul, here?"

Sam all but rolled his eyes at him, looking back out into the road. "I don't regret falling in love with Jess." Dean looked at him, trying to figure out where the conversation had gone. "Don't get me wrong, if I could go back in time and change things so she'd be alive today I'd do it in a second but I've never regretted taking that chance."

"Would've saved you a world of hurt if you hadn't."

Sam shrugged. "I guess. I'm still glad I took the chance anyway. And I'm not sorry I fell in love with Madison, either. I don't even regret taking that chance with Ruby."

"_Dude_..."

Sam raised his hands. "I mean, I regret getting played by her, definitely. I wasn't thinking straight when all of that started and I missed a lot, I know, but she didn't manipulate me into anything, not that early anyway. I know you don't want to hear that," he said, and it was true, Dean sure as hell _didn't _want to hear that. "I knew what she was but I felt like if there was even a one percent chance of something real there I had to go for it. Had to." Sam let that sit for a few moments. "Dean, I don't want you to wind up like Dad."

"What's that supposed to mean? Not that Dad didn't make his share of mistakes, but..."

"Dad was a coward."

Dean knew he didn't snap to attention at the sound of his father's name anymore, not the way he had when he was eighteen, but the shock of hearing that still sat him upright. "You can say a lot of bad things about Dad, Sam, but I don't think that's..."

"He was, Dean. Whenever anything got hard for him he ran. Look at how he handled things with Ellen and Jo. He and Ellen and Bill Harvelle were friends, and then when Dad got him killed he couldn't even work up the nerve to face her. And with Adam's mom, he had the chance for something real there and he never had the guts to go for it."

"Dad was trying to protect them."

"C'mon, Dean. You don't really believe that, do you? He was scared out of his mind. There was nothing stopping him from settling down there with all of us and having a family again but he couldn't stand it. Being on the road is easier."

"I don't know what childhood you had, Sam, but I thought you'd figured out this life sucks."

"I didn't say it doesn't. Just said it's easier." He let out a deep breath. "Trusting people is _hard_. I'd take facing down a coven of witches over that. The road never lies, never betrays you. Chews you up and spits you out, sure, but you tell yourself you signed up for that. All Hunters do this. Take on demons, sure, bring it on. Then the chance for something real with another person drops in our laps and we can't run fast enough." Sam shook his head. "I didn't want that life. Even if it was huge mistake, I never wanted to be that guy who had something in front of me and was too scared to reach for it."

The criticism wasn't even subtle. "So you think I am."

Sam just shrugged again. "Don't know. That's why I asked where your head was at." Dean saw Sam's jaw clench when he didn't answer. "Okay. Tell me what you were thinking then. A couple days ago when your soul got all grabby hands with his Grace, what was going through your head?"

Dean remembered leaning over Cas and hearing that fear in his voice. "He was hurting, Sam, and he was _scared_. He thought he was going to the Pit. I just didn't..." He shook his head. "I didn't want him to be alone in all that."

Sam cocked his head to the side. "From the way it sounds to me, if you go through with this he won't ever be. And neither will you."

"He'll die."

"Eventually, I guess. I mean, he pretty much signed on for that when he joined up with us anyway."

Dean shook his head. "I could kick off tomorrow. This...this whatever this is happens, I'd just be dragging him down with me."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "In case you forgot, _he _was the one bleeding out in the backseat two days ago, not you. Unless that's it? Are you worried with everyone gunning for him someone else will get lucky and he'll drag you down?"

"_No_," Dean said immediately, the thought having never occurred to him. "If he goes after the son of a bitch who did this without me I might kill him myself."

Sam looked at him like he'd caught Dean at something. "Seems to me like with this kind of life the best that we can hope for is someone to be next to you when that bullet with your name on it finds you." Sam let out another deep breath. "You're my brother. Whatever you do, I've got your back, you know that. If this is some freak thing, if you really don't feel that way about him then cool, we'll figure out a way to de-angelfy you. But man, the thought of Cas dying scared you so much that your _soul grabbed hold of him and wouldn't let go_. That's gotta mean something." Sam pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Dean, if you've got the chance for something real here you gotta go for it, 'cause if you don't then you're dead already."

Dean scowled, drumming his fingers against his knees. "Guess you think you're pretty smart, huh."

"I _know _I'm pretty smart."

Dean smirked at that, smacking Sam with his wing again.

"You're getting pretty good at wrangling those," Sam said, laughing it off again. "Now that all of that's out of the way I just wanna say that, man, I used to have _nightmares _about me proposing to Jess and her freaking out the way you did."

Dean felt himself blush again. "Cas didn't _propose _to me."

"I should've told him to get a ring."

"_Dude._"

Sam got up, somehow dodging getting smacked again. "I'm gonna go check on the car. You go and...I don't know, do whatever it is you're going to," he said, putting one hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean watched him leave, lost in his own thoughts for a long time.

888

Dean slipped back into the motel room, careful not to slam the door on his wings. Sam had left the lights dimmed and Dean realized he didn't need them anyway. Cas was still lying on the bed, curled up on his side now with his eyes closed; Dean sat on the foot of the bed and watched him...sleep, Dean guessed? Dean didn't know if he needed to sleep, although having that thought made Dean realize what he was doing. "Hey, Cas," he said, shifting up to put one hand on his shoulder. "Up and at 'em."

Up close Dean could see the way he was shivering, pain lines around his eyes and regretted taking so long to realize what he had to do. "Dean?" Cas murmured, his eyes blinking open.

"Yeah, it's me." Cas turned himself over to lay on his back. "You should've told me how bad it was."

"There seemed little point." He let out a long, tragic sigh. "I apologize, Dean, what I suggested was...was a gross impropriety..."

"Cas, shut up."

Dean saw just the faintest glimmer of hope in Castiel's eyes. "Have you...have you reconsidered?"

"Don't start any mushy talk or I'll change my mind right back."

Having Cas look up at him like that almost made it all worth it. "We'll have to find a way to accomplish it. I know the angelic version of the ritual but that won't work for..."

"Cas. _Shut Up._" Dean had actually given this some thought while he'd been sitting outside and the last thing he wanted was to lose his nerve. "I know what I'm doing."

This had all started with a kiss. No reason that couldn't work twice.

Before Cas could say another word Dean leaned down and kissed him, feeling the relieved sigh Cas let out rush through him. "Figured you couldn't really appreciate that the first time around," he whispered, enjoying how wide he'd gotten Cas' eyes.

"You pulled me out of the dark," Cas murmured back and Dean felt all of the lingering awkwardness melt away. Cas looked over Dean's shoulder at the wings he knew were there. "Can I see them?"

Dean grinned, closing his eyes to focus until he heard Cas inhale a soft breath. Dean opened his eyes again and saw Cas gazing up at all of that white. "Don't know why you like them so much."

"It's not them as such," he said, "although as I said, they are striking. But it's what they mean."

Dean shook his head. "Enough mush, Cas." Dean kissed him again, coaxing his lips open as he deepened the kiss, taking his time until Cas clutched onto his arm, moaning softly deep in his throat. Dean finally came up for air and started working Cas out of his clothes, sliding the suit jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his way down Cas' chest and again taking his sweet time. He trailed his tongue along the jagged scar on Cas' chest, feeling the way Cas' back arched up. "Like that?"

Cas nodded, his eyes already a little dazed, like he could hardly keep up with what was happening. He helped Dean pull his own shirt off, careful not to snare the wings; Dean shook his head as he examined the holes the wings had torn out of the back. "This is going to be hell on my clothes, Cas."

"Mastering the intangibility will help." Then he pulled Dean down in an insistent kiss, sliding one hand through the feathers of the right wing and Dean felt that touch echo through his bones.

"Cas, _fuck_, keep doing that." Dean didn't fight it as Cas rolled him onto his back, straddling Dean's waist and just _staring_. Dean flared out his wings and saw the raw lust dilate Cas' eyes; he closed his eyes as Cas trailed just his fingertips across the soft down lining the tops of the the wings and then down into the longer feathers, each touch spiraling down through Dean like lightning strikes. "Next time I get to take you apart like this," he said, already having a hard time catching his breath.

"I very much look forward to it," Cas murmured, grabbing big fistfuls of feathers as he kissed Dean, stretching across him as if trying for as much skin contact as possible. To help that along Dean finished getting Cas the rest of the way out of his clothes, drawing out a soft whimper as he trailed the wingtip down over Cas' hipbone and down his thigh. Dean shrugged off his jeans and pressed Cas back against the bed, his mind short circuiting for a second as Cas arched up under him. He could feel Cas was hard and now Dean was the one who wanted to stare, just so he could tattoo Cas looking at him like this on his memory, all flushed with desire, his eyes hooded.

But there were a couple of things he wanted to do more. Cas let out a strangled little sound as Dean wrapped one hand around his cock, his head snapping back and a word slipping out in a language that was nothing close to human. As Dean worked his hand up and down, getting him even harder Cas went back to stroking along his wings, sending electric shocks right to Dean's spine. He felt Cas spread his legs and shifted over to kneel between them, licking up Cas' shaft as he moved (and the sound Cas made when he did that was _awesome_.) He was just starting to wonder what he was going to do for lube when he reached down to slide a finger in, wanting to get at least that far when he found Cas already slick, like Dean had made that happen by willing it. "Angel mojo is awesome, Cas."

"It can be," Cas said, a dazed tone to his voice that said he didn't really know what Dean was getting at and didn't care as long as Dean kept this up.

Dean grinned, pausing to plant another slow, lingering kiss on his lips. "You sure you wanna do this? Sounds like there's no take backs."

Cas actually smiled at that, fitting his hand against the handprint he'd seared onto Dean's shoulder before propping himself up one elbow to kiss Dean back, a soft kiss just brushing his lips. "I think I've wanted this since the first moment I saw you, Dean."

That was all Dean needed to hear. He took a deep breath and pressed in that first tight inch, watching Cas' eyes go impossibly wide. Cas grabbed his wings and held on tight as Dean kept slid in inch by inch; Dean could feel each swirl of Cas' fingerprints, his angel-heightened senses going up even keener as he pushed himself closer to the edge. He could hear Cas' heart racing, a pounding drumbeat that sank deep into Dean's skin. If he tried Dean thought he would be able to see down past the flesh and bone of Cas' vessel to the real angel hiding inside, all of that blinding light Dean had breathed in and clung to tight.

It wasn't long at all until he felt those first tight contractions, the heat of it almost pushing the breath out of Dean's lungs. If he'd had any doubts this would work they were gone now; he could feel energy buzzing under his skin, sparking along his feathers like the air was charged. "Cas, look at me."

Cas opened his eyes and _stared_, trailing his fingers along the curve of Dean's lips. "Dean, you're glowing."

Cas' own eyes were glowing too, golden light ringing his irises instead of white. "Told you I knew what I was doing," he said, cradling Cas head as he kissed him hard, the energy under his skin building as Cas moaned against him, his orgasm shaking through his whole body. Dean whispered, "_Cas_," one more time, the closest thing to a real prayer he'd ever managed, then his vision whited out as his climax wracked him, that energy rushing out at the same time like a driving wave. For an instant he could see Cas, _really _see him, the impossible size and power and strange, surreal beauty, all light and wings with empty, hollow spaces a new force rushed in to fill. Then Dean snapped back to reality, Cas' arms around him and Cas murmuring words against his lips, words in a language Dean had never learned but now knew.

He realized he must have passed out for a few seconds; when he came to again Cas was draped on top of him, his breathing deep and steady. "Guess you do sleep now, huh?" he whispered, running his hands through Cas' messy hair. He adjusted his wings, surprised to find himself relieved they were still there. The super senses were still there too, and if anything keener than ever; he could feel each drop of sweat drying on his skin, each imperfection in Cas' skin distinct and begging to be touched. And that wasn't all; Dean could feel Cas there, not with his senses but with something new. Dean couldn't figure out why he'd ever had any hesitation over this. "Hey, Cas," he said, running one finger along his jaw to rouse him.

He smiled when Cas' bleary eyes finally blinked open. "Hello, Dean."

"How do you feel? Better?

"That was astonishing."

Dean grinned wider. "Awesome. More where that came from."

Cas nodded, curling back against him and Dean counted the seconds until his breathing evened out again.

Dean focused his eyes, like he was trying solve one of those hidden picture posters, and lines of golden light flickered into place in the air. Dean now understood why Cas had been so amused at Dean thinking Cas had stolen his wings: his were pretty impressive, but they were nothing compared to the real thing.

Dean could only see the outlines but that teasing glimpse was enough; he thought that if Cas stretched them out they would span the wide enough that the room couldn't hold them, all graceful likes and curves that belied the power Dean knew was hiding there. One was tucked up next to Cas, curled across Dean like a golden blanket, the other stretched out in the air, the golden lines shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the motel window. Dean blinked and the light was gone, a promise of all there was to come.


End file.
